Blue Stones, Black Rock

A girl stands in the garden, just beyond the open doors, watching him. The same one who watched in the bedroom. She is tall, slender, with golden skin, long, thick, tawny hair and great emerald green eyes that don't appear to blink. She wears a filmy green dress, flecked with silver, that swirls about her like water. She steps into the room, her bare feet making no sound. She approaches Adam and stretches out her hands. As she touches him, a huge sigh overlays the notes he is playing. It fills the room, but it is not clear if it is Adam, or the girl who sighs. Perhaps they both do. She rests on his back, her cheek nuzzling his curly head and a lock of her hair falls forward. Her fingers cover his, trying to mirror his movements and he slows right down so that they can work together. The piece continues at a dreamy pace. Her eyes are closed like Adam's, but tears only fall from under his lids. He plays on, leaving them unchecked and when he finishes the piece, he sits for a while, with bowed head.

When he opens his eyes, the girl isn't there and he doesn't search for her. He closes the piano and puts the statuette away.

They lie, naked and asleep, limbs entangled, on a very messy bed, a sheet partially covering them as the dawn light begins to creep round the edge of the curtains. Jules is still, her breathing deep and regular, but Adam is restless, his eyelids fluttering and lips moving. The girl in the green-and-silver flecked dress is in the room. She moves, without a sound, first to Jules's side and then to Adam's. She stretches out a hand to let it hover just above his cheek. She makes a stroking gesture, leaning forward, locks of her hair falling onto him. He moans and reaches up a hand, but the girl quickly falls back into the shadows. He begins to murmur and this wakes Jules. She listens as the girl, a faint outline against the wall, watches them both. Suddenly, Adam jerks awake, eyes wide open and staring, his breath coming in laboured gasps. Jules puts a soothing hand on his chest until he calms down and falls back.

‘Hi, Adam, what a drama!!! People filmed it, of course. Gone viral. Place is rammed right now. Grigor is delighted. Jules is in the back room, looking awful. Oh, by the way, Grigor asked for your number. Hope that's okay. X Trish.’

Adam throws the phone down and stands up. He looks out at the rain, which is showing no signs of letting up, then sits down at the piano, but doesn't play. The girl in the green-and-silver-flecked dress watches him from the terrace. He bangs the lid down, gets up and leaves the room. She walks in, her bare feet making no sound and goes over to the piano. Lifting the lid, she presses down a key, and another, then runs her fingers up and down, but the silence of the room is not disturbed. She walks over to the picture of the tree and resting one hand on the wall, beside the frame, gazes at it. Going over to the chest, she takes out the casket, opens it and lifts out the tiny statuette. She strokes her, leaving trickles of water slipping down her, before placing her back in the casket. She paces round the room and then goes back out to the terrace, untroubled by the pouring rain.

Adam returns, carrying two bags. One is full and zipped up, the other unzipped and empty. He drops the full one by the sofa and puts the bundle of smooth sticks and the net of balls into the empty one. He sees the casket and the open drawer and frowns. The girl watches him, leaning on the wall by the picture. Adam's puzzled gaze goes to where she is and he walks over. Her dress swirls against him. He gazes into the branches of the immense, never-ending tree, sighs deeply and begins to turn away, but stops abruptly. There, on the wall, beside the frame, is the imprint of a hand. With trembling fingers, he touches the wall. It's damp. Stepping back, he studies the floor, then crouches down. There are marks of bare feet, smaller than his. He traces them round the room and out to the terrace. He opens the casket and lifts out the statuette. Using a corner of his shirt, he begins to dry her, as his tears flow freely.